Didactic fiction; Roe, Edward Payson, 1838-1888; Short stories
A call on Whiskey Bob was apparently always acceptable; and the party
soon disappeared down the road--some on horses and more on foot. Brandt
then quietly crossed the road and gained his retreat on the
mountain-side.
"I must camp here now till the fellow dies, and I can prove it, or
until I can get another chance," was his conclusion as he rubbed down
and fed his horse.
CHAPTER IV
TAKEN ALIVE
After taking some refreshment himself, Brandt decided to go to the
thicket opposite the superintendent's house for a little observation.
He soon reached this outlook, and saw that something unusual was
occurring in the cottage. At last the door opened, and Bute was
assisted to his shanty by two men. They had scarcely disappeared before
Brandt darted across the road and knocked for admittance.
"Great Scott! you here?" exclaimed Mr. Alford.
"Yes, and here I'm going to stay till I take my man," replied the
detective, with a laugh. "Don't be alarmed. I shall not remain in your
house, but in the neighborhood."
"You are trifling with your life, and, I may add, with mine."
"Not at all. Come up to your bedroom. First draw the curtains close,
and we'll compare notes. I won't stay but a few moments."
Mr. Alford felt that it was best to comply, for some one might come and
find them talking in the hall. When Brandt entered the apartment, he
threw himself into a chair and laughed in his low careless style as he
said, "Well, I almost bagged my game to-night, and would have done so
had not three of your men, returning from the tavern, interfered."
"There's a party out looking for you now."
"I know it; but I've put them on the wrong trail. What I want to learn
is, will Bute live?"
"Yes; your shot made a long flesh-wound just above his shoulders. A
little closer, and it would have cut his vertebrae and finished him. He
has lost a good deal of blood, and could not be moved for some days
except at some risk."
"You are sure of that?"
"Yes."
"Well, he may have to incur the risk. I only wish to be certain that he
will not take it on his own act at once. You'll soon miss him in any
event."
"The sooner the better. I wish your aim had been surer."
"That wasn't my good luck. Next time I'll have to shoot closer or else
take him alive."
"But you can't stay in this region. They will all be on the alert now."
"Oh, no. The impression will be general to-morrow that I've made for
the lowlands as fast as my horse could carry me. Don't you worry. Till
I move again, I'm safe enough. All I ask of you now is to keep Bute in
his own shanty, and not to let him have more than one man to take care
of him if possible. Good-night. You may not see me again, and then
again you may."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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